Monday, July 24, 2006

Service Interrupted

This week I'm spending my vacation moving from my old flat to my new one. It's of course all very exciting, but it also means that I wont be able to access the internet and a regular basis before next week.

JB

Service Interrupted

This week I'm spending my vacation moving from my old flat to my new one. It's of course all very exciting, but it also means that I wont be able to access the internet and a regular basis before next week.

JB

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Free Speech


STOP. Don't hit that back button or click "Next Blog" just yet. If you're a blogger or interested in blogging and free speech, please take your time to read this post.


This was going to be a post about me going on vacation and moving house next week, or I was going to write about how I'm going to Paris tomorrow to meet up with the Lovely K for 4 nights of Parisian passion.

But somewhere in Paris, events far more dark and sinister are taking place. Events that yesterday compelled one of my favorite bloggers to go public and disclose the shattering story about how she's been suspended from work for writing a blog about her life in Paris. And not just, suspended. No. Suspended for gross misconduct, even though she never disclosed any information about her employer. In fact her only "crime" seems to be that she at one point posted a picture of herself and that the picture allegedly could identify her employer and discredit the company.

This is of course a load of bollocks, and I was truly sad when I read the post and the article about her misfortune.

It also got me thinking that I need to be careful about what I write, how I write it and where I write it, because anything that you put in a blog is basically published and public information.
Yes, I sometimes blog about me work, but only in general terms and I always blog outside office hours, generally in the early morning hours. So all I'm doing really, is using the corporate network and company laptop, but that can also be a potential danger if someday the company decides they don't need me anymore.

I urge you to visit Petit Anglaise's blog and show your support for her. I'm sure that she needs to feel somebody is standing by her. Her writing is excellent (yes, I'm envious) and I'm confident that her blog is destined for hardcover publication.

An old and wise relative of mine once told me that the Chinese use two symbols to express the word "crisis" One is "danger" the other is "opportunity" (he was a clever chap, but this may be rubbish, however it's a good point...). I think what he meant was that no matter how bad things get, there's always a chance to come out strong and build something new.
I wish for Petit that she uses this crisis to turn her life around and free that beautiful author that lurks just beneath the surface.

JB

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Movers going Mobile

A year ago I bought a new apartment and next week the builders are finally done so I should be able to move into my brand new home complete with oiled white ash floors and white Corian table tops for the kitchen and bathroom next week.

As the flat has been near ready for weeks I've moved most of my stuff already and next week I need some movers to lug the rest of my stuff away to the new place. It's down to a few items:

Dining Table (1x3m)
Double bed
2 small cabinets
1 small table

So, since we now live in the new millennium I find a website that specializes in requesting quotes from different companies, and sure enough I've received a lot of quotes. All the quotes offers me a standard price of between 350-400 pounds which seems a bit excessive since it's really only a few items and my new flat i less than 2 km away form my old one and is quite accessible.

So now I've started to poke around various web-site and calling up a few companies to explain just what I need. What I've found so far surprises me. Before looking into this I imagined that companies like that would all compete on price and that the services offered would be quite easy to compare. How wrong was I...

See, it turns out that prices on movers and the sheer diversity of services offered is almost as enormous as the services offered by mobile phone operators. Moving is apparently a complicated business after all...

I can chose between various "standard" products, which it turns out is not standard after all. So one company's "standard" service will include insurance, but not a full insurance. Another company's " standard" service will include full insurance (albeit not with the same coverage as other full insurance products) , but will demand a starting fee. A third company offers service by the hour but will not carry anything heavier than 95 Kg, whereas the fourth company will carry any weight but charges a premium for items heavier than 80 Kg....and so the list goes on and on with various products and mix of services offered at very different prices.
I can't believe this marked is so opaque to the consumer. There's just no way you can take to different companies and compare their services (and thus prices) head to head. It's all very confusing and time consuming.

What I'll probably end up doing is hiring a company that will send me 2 guys in a van and charge me on an hourly basis. I'll make sure these guys are insured against any damage done to the building or my apartment, as I've discovered that damage to the items themselves are in fact covered by my "standard" home insurance. Now, all I need to do is to find a company that offers this service for less then 100 pounds and give them the contract....and figure out how the hell to tell them the exact weight of my dining table...

JB

Monday, July 17, 2006

Teenage Envy

Yesterday a friend and I wasted a couple of lazy hours at the marina, sitting in the sun drinking chilled Chardonnay watching and commenting people as they strolled by.

On the bench on the other side of the promenade a teenage couple sits down. They sit very close together and even somebody with very limited body language reading capabilities can see that those two are really in to each other. Kissing and giggling with hands everywhere they're looking each other deep into the eyes barely balancing on the edge of decency.
The guy has an indolent look that is the hallmark of almost every teenager these days and with his 24 karat garden-hose, baggy pants and spiked hair he looks exactly like any other 16 year old.
The girl is less generic yet sports the obligatory high cut bikini, the ubiquitous flip flops and a tattoo on her lower back. She looks young, and I suspect that having crazy wild sex with her could seriously bring down the heat on that innocent looking 17 year old lad (15 being the legal age for sexual activities in this country)

Anyway. All that is beside the point. The point is that while wathcing those two laughing and having fun in the sun I was thinking that it would be nice if I was a teenager again. Sitting on a bench without a care in the world smooching with a nice girl and not worrying about anything else than her, being so deeply in love that everything else just loses importance. Not having to care about tomorrow or next year or how to structure my pension plan. Just allowing myself to fall in love with love without all the reservations that experience has taught me. Yeah, that would be nice...

But, it's not going to happen is it?. Because I'm an adult now, and adults are expected to be responsible and considered people and such people do not rush in without thinking things through first and contemplating every possible angle. Adults don't take many chances and putting some extra sugar in your latte is about as wild, daring and adventurous as most adults get. Not even in love can we escape the bondage of responsibility.

To make a sad point even sadder. I know that the 17 year old spotted teenager will probably sit on the marina 10 years from know and think "Hey. What happened? I used to laugh and fool around and now I'm sitting here with my drink and wonder where all my carefree happiness has gone".

And that's the sad fact of life. The tiny seed of love grows into a tangled web of considerations and challenges as the years pass you by. Even sadder though is the fact that I believe we ourselves are making it be that way because we're so used to worrying about everything, that worrying about love comes naturally to us.

Good news is that, since I then is the source of my worry, I can change the rules of the game and allow myself to experience the magic of falling in love again without the aid of a time machine.

JB

Friday, July 14, 2006

Memory lane


I really shouldn't be posting this link as a someone might accidentally give it a click and end up using too many hours browsing and watching (for free...) 100s of classic music videos from the 80s.

To me the 80s was a musical dessert with very few water reservoirs. I can't tell Yazz from Yazoo or Bangles from Bananarama because i basically spend my time in the 80s listening to Pink Floyd...

JB

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Great Expectations

Bip, bip - the phone vibrates in my pocket competing with my still hot lunch sandwich for my attention. Drying my hands in the napkin I look at the colourful display of my P900 (pathetic phone btw - getting a Nokia next time) and press OK to read the message. It's the Lovely K.

"Miss your touch. IM me soon, OK?"

I finish my BLT at amazing pace and rush back to my office almost tripping over Connor (bosses' dog - brain like a pea, build of a rat and the ego of a lion) sending him running for cover with a surprised yelp.

Me: Hi princess - what's up
K: I'm in the office can't call right now...
K: ...just wanted to say that I miss you - xox
Me: ahhh that's sweet. Now what's really up?
K: I'm afraid that I need you...
K: in a meeting
K: in Paris next week
Me: When? Tue-Thu I'm busy rearranging my sock drawer...
Me: and Fri I'm dating Paris Hilton. Again.
K: Funny. It's Thu and Fri and you're invited to spend the week-end.
Me: Sounds like a plan.
K: Cool. And btw, I wasn't joking, I really do miss you and your hands...
Me: ...me too. You've been on my mind a lot lately.
K: ...and we both now you have a filthy mind
Me: Yes, maybe you could send me some juicy pictures..;-)
K: ...why not a movie?
Me: Actually, I'd much more prefer you live....
K: You will have me live and you must take me live, honey...
K: Gotta go, OK? Save yourself for me...
Me: CU soon pretty.

K logged off.

So the scene is set for what I hope is going to be a couple of Parisian nights of passion. And I don't think I can save myself for her until next week...If I close my eyes I can almost feel her moist body against my skin and imagine how beautiful she'll be as I slowly kiss her pink parts building up the pressure until she's tingling all the way from her neck to the tip of her toes and begging for release.

JB

Little Man Tate


No. Not Jodie Fosters bright little kid, but a fab band from Sheffield UK. As you may recall I have a soft spot for UK Indie and alternative pop/rock and if the same kind of music sounds appealing to you, you need to check out this band.

LMT has some excellent music that will have you singing and tapping your feet to every tune. The lyrics are all about everyday life and stuff that has happened to real people (oh and they even have a song about a threesome...) so if you're looking for political statements and involvement in the society you should look somewhere else (or go buy The Guardian) because this band is all about real life and partying.

If you're into bands like Dirty Pretty Things then Little Man Tate is definitely something you need to check out as they have some of the same in-your-face beats and interesting vocals.
These guys have yet to release their first real album, but while you wait you can check out their singles "The Agent" and "What, what you got" on iTunes, and while you're at, it don't forget to pre-order their next single release "House Party at Boothys" coming out Aug 21st.

You can check out the guys on their web site and you can even download some great demo tracks absolutely free,

Enjoy

JB

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Next Generation Blog Browsing



Innovation, art and internet surfing blends into something very interesting over at We feel fine where 2 brilliant people have created something very unique and highly interesting.

Basically what their application does is searching thousands of blogs for feelings expressed by the author and then displays those feelings in various compelling and highly innovative ways. So if you're curious to see how female bloggers from Toronto in Canada is feeling today this application can show you all the details in a very visual way.

Although the application should be considered and treated like a work of art it can also be considered as a new and involving way to surf the internet and actually uses an interface that encourage users to explore unknown blog territory in a new way.

To me this is more innovative than anything Microsoft, Firefox or even Apple has ever come up with in the browser war and I wish the guys over at We Feel Dine all the best. What's even better is that the inventors have put up a full documented API on their web page allowing other designers and artists to take advantage of the information in their large databases and take true next generation blog browsing to new stellar highs.

JB

Monday, July 10, 2006

Minutes from a Cafe

Yesterday, M and I are sitting in a local café waiting for the World Cup final to start. I've known M for 15 years and we're both very single and both feeling a bit of presure from the immidiate family (namely mothers) to start breeding and produce some offspring.
`Have you seen the new girl in accounts receivables?´ M asks sipping his beer and fingering his beer-mat.
`- You mean Claudia? The tall blonde with the long legs and the huge attributes? The Scandinavian clichĂ©? ´
M nods in agreement `Yep - I was going to ask her out this week-end, but then I noticed that she's got short fingers so I backed off.´
I take a long sip of my Hoegaarden and think about that for a while ´WTF you mean, short fingers? She has all ten of them, right?´
M makes a funny grimace ´Yeah, it's just that her fingers are really short. It's a total turn off for me. I prefer them long and slender.´

We fall into silence and I start thinking. I don't recall ever rejecting a girl because she had short fingers. I've rejected women because I've found them generally unatractive or even skanky or because they've been obsessively yaking on about stupefying american reality shows. But never because they had short fingers...

Anyway, M's remark got me thinking. What kind of women do I really prefer, or more to the point, which ones I don't prefer? Limiting myself to looking only at apperance seems a bit shallow, but I guess that it's a good place to start. When it comes to body type, I must admint that I really don't like the "porno body" that some women likes to put on display. To me, overly large (fake) tits and a Lopez-style arse sometimes seems a bit vulgar, especially when put on display on purpose. In my experience a porno body is often a cover for a bunch of insecurities that I don't really want to deal with in bed or outside. Instead I prefer the 5.2 - 5.4ish petit women with a nice face and a naturally proportioned build.

But to be fair, It's not only the outside apperance that matters, is it? I mean, if that was my only criteria it would be pretty easy to find someone. So, this is where things gets complex. Ideally to be perfect (for me) she'd need something extra. Something that makes her more, a lot more, than just another pretty face. Like a classic education so that she'll know that Schumpeter is not Britney's latest fragrance, or a knowledge of foreign cultures so she better understands the context we're living in and dont' believe that the Malya people lives in Himalaya, or an independent personality that sets her apart from all the other pretty girls so she won't become boring 3 shags down the line. And, this is important, she has realized that the 80s was not the paramount of musical innovation, but she is still cool enough to give Wham a spin every 6 months.

Scary moment approching... I think this girl does not exist and I live in utopia, a single mans fantasy world where women comes pre-labeled in neat little boxes so you can pick and choose any flavour you like and just pay at the till thank you very much.

I guess that what makes women complex is me. Not the women. Women are probably pretty straight foreward to understand but all this thinking and rambling has clouded my mind making the real picture hard to see. Give me another 10 years and I've probably figured it all out. Or not.

JB

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Scary place



I work with a lot of Swedish people and most of them are quite sensible and nice, but this has me worried. I found this (1970s, I think) album cover floating around on the internet, and although it looks innocent enough, I think the picture has a somewhat eerie and foreboding feeling about it, and the way the (Swedish, I assume) guy in the foreground is holding what appears to be an axe reminds me of Jack Nicholson in The Shining. And what's in the bag? Food or something far more disturbing like the severed head of kid number 9...

For more fun album covers I suggest you pay the Museum of bad album covers a visit.

Have fun!

JB

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Spanish Slip

One should think that by now I should have learned that genius is located in the brain, not in the genitals. From past experience I know that sleeping with somebody I work with (sleeping=having gorgeous and wild sex) can be a sure way to make myself miserable, so I'm surprised that I'm now sitting here facing that same issue once again.

As you may now I've been to Barcelona for a few days for a pan-European company meeting. Apart from a lot of listening and talking these meetings comes with build-in social interactivity. This time, for me, the social part became maybe just a little too interactive as I interfaced perhaps a little too much with the lovely K, who has a central position working out of the company's' London office.

So, Saturday night coming home from the Shoko Lounge I bump into lovely K at the hotel bar, where she's sitting struggling to get her 2.5 inch heels off. Being a gentleman (albeit a drunk one) I offer my assistance and she returns the favor by offering me a drink.

Lovely K is a beautiful 5.3ish petit girl with long curly raven black hair framing her delicate featured face and Saturday night a black mini-dress graced her fit body. So, 5 or 10 minutes into the drink I find myself gently massaging her sore feet and very attracted to her beautiful smile and intelligent eyes. By the time the bar closes we both agree that one more drink probably can't hurt, so I put my arm around her and off we go to my room with every intention to raid the mini-bar.

Back in the room I'm mixing the drinks while she's freshening up in the bathroom and then the moment comes. I turn to give her my special Campari Soda/Vodka drink and at that moment I look at her and think: WOW. She's the pinnacle of femininity, not to fuck her would be a crime.

So, before the ice cubes are gone from our glasses we're in the shower washing off the sweat, kissing and whispering sweet and tender words.

That night I'll never forget. The way she curls her toes and arcs her body when reaching climax, the way her soft breath turns into heavy breathing, panting, and eventually screaming, the way her small tits and nipples reacts to even the softest touch or kiss, the way she bites the pillow because she won't wake up the neighbor, how her soft tanned flesh feels against mine or how I can gently massage her clitoris slowly going faster and faster and more rhytmic as her pressure builds up, and how she's asking for deep penetration just as an orgasm shakes her entire body and she feels like she's elevating from the befloatingng in mid-air feeling nothing but ultimate pleasure. No, that I'll never forget. And I'll also never forget the way she later used her body to bring me great pleasure, how demanding her mouth can be, how she would tease me for what seemed like a decade before finally bringing me to a powerful climax, and (very importantly) the way she can keep me up all night (literally) and still leave me wanting more, more, more...And post coital...Lying in bed, listening to her soft breathing realizing that the mere smell of her hair and skin can be arousing, kissing, hugging, stroking her thighs and kissing her nipples, feeling how I get a reaction from her as she again parts her legs and let me play, rub, kiss and lick until she's all orgasmic and ready for penetration again...

And in the morning at breakfast cherishing the fact that her and I now have a secret that we cannot tell anyone. Sitting with my group looking at her and lying through my teeth telling them that after the club I went straight to bed, whilst looking at her knowingly, and jumping up on down on the inside of my straight face. And sitting there enjoying breakfast, while extremely erotic fragments from last night keeps popping up in my head and feeling good about the pleasure she gave me, and feeling even better about the pleasure I gave to her.

So, as you can probably imagine I'm totally in to this woman and yet it just feels, well...wrong. You see, although we work for the same company and the distance between us is hundreds of miles, the different work related tasks that we have means that we'll sometimes need to professionally disagree, and argue a lot, and scream, and go behind the others back to get things done. Getting emotionally involved with someone you need to challengege on work related issues from time to time is not healthy thing on a short term basis and can be a really dangerous thing on a long term basis (job-wise).
For the moment I've decided to keep the line warm and respond in a sweet, naughty or just pure dirty way to the sweet little e-mails and text messages she's been sending my way. See what happens...

JB
So, it's been a while since my last update.

Barcelona was great. Returning to the city a seeing how much has happened there over the last 15 years was amazing. The area around the Olympic Marina is absolutely great with beautiful buildings and new art and sculptures to explore at every turn. In fact, Barcelona was so great that I decided to stay over the week-end and returned home Sunday evening.

Saturday evening I went to Shoko Lounge. Japanese Sushi restaurantt in the day time and booming nightclub and lounge in the night. Located at the marina right next to the beach the place is a perfect setting for a night of drinking, dancing and chatting up the lovely Spanish chicas. The music, however, is debatable .Apparently the "hottest Spanishh DJ" is the resident MC and he has a strong preference for House. Maybe my age si showing here, but isn't house music just about the most 90s you can possibly get bar wearing Converse hi-tops? Anyhow, the locals, and especially the little honeys were strutting their stuff likethere'ss no tomorrow on the dance floor so the music can be all bad.

More soon

JB